Quilotoa: A typical visit to a gorgeous lake

This picture of Tungurahua helped us decide to go to Quilotoa.

After a bit of research on Tungurahua, we figured out that Volcanologists the world over are generally outraged that the Ecuadorian government still permits human settlement on its slopes, it's only a question of when...  It felt pretty ominous going to bed knowing that every volcano scientist in the world wants to come here because, yee-haw, she's ready to blow! Besides, there was no hope of hiking the ridge (see photo) to see the volcano up close because the weather turned out to not be any better. Since then, we've opted for the dead volcanoe version:  Quilotoa.

Lake Quilotoa is all that is left of a massive volcano that blew itself to smithereens 800 years ago…in other words, enough time ago for these parents. 

Pickup truck ride into the mountains

The combination of a few extra bucks to drivers for safe driving and kids-in-tow has made the typically hair raising segments of our travel down-right pleasant. The ride to Quilotoa was no exception.  I have to say, with kids, people seem more helpful and approachable than in our kid-free backpacker days; even breaking rules like letting dogs in hotels...oops, did I say dog?

So anyway, the little village of Quilotoa (at 4000 meters...that's the summit of Mount Hood, by the way) is pretty much in the middle of nowhere on a grassy, windswept landscape high in the Andes.  Upon arrival, there’s not much there other than a very chilly, treeless vista, and a few basic hostels run by friendly,  soft spoken (and totally business savvy) Quechua .  You look around at the starkness and think, "so where's the lake?", but a stroll up a little hill and the sight that meets your eyes is downright breathtaking.  I hope our pictures do it justice because it is simply stunning. Even more impressive when you realize that an entire mountain vaporized here just a geological eye blink ago.

At least that was the most impressive part for the grownups. For Kaia and Niko, the welcoming committee of puppies was.  One particularly affectionate "Benji-like" adolescent adopted Kaia and Niko on our walks and then cried outside our door long after dark.

         

We all washed our hands very well that evening...

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The next morning, as we prepared for our big hike down into the crater, our travel companion was no where to be found.

Despite heavy hearts and even a few misty eyes, the kids did great on the dusty 1 hour descent to the lake.

see quilotoa: Part II